Making a Man and a Queen
by Allyrion
Summary: A Game of Thrones story of Margaery and Tommen's wedding night, with all sorts of juicy details.


This story will be GoT centered, up to current episodes (epiosdes 4x03-4x04). **Do not read if you are not caught up, this is your one and only spoiler warning.** In the books, Tommen is far too young and innocent, playing with his kittens, to think about sex. However, I think the television series version of him would be a quite interesting dynamic with the gorgeous Natalie Dormer's portrayal of Margaery Tyrell.

Enjoy.

* * *

The wedding was not quite up to the standard of his brother's, but King Tommen I Baratheon did not seem to care, despite the troubles on his young mind.

It was unsurprising given the still recent circumstances; Joffrey's death, and the tumultuous following events. His uncle Tyrion still remained imprisoned of the crime, and Tommen was sad for that. Tyrion had always treated him well, but Tommen's mother Cersei could not be dissuaded of his guilt.

If truth be told, Tommen did not share the certainty, but it was far beyond him to challenge the matriarchal authority he had known all his young life.

These gloomy thoughts of his uncle were quenched by the luxuries of the wedding. As a prince, Tommen had enjoyed rich foods, but these surpassed even what he had known. Dishes beyond count; capons, huge hogs with apples in their mouths seared to a crisp, masses of potatoes, turnips, succulent trout from the embattled Riverlands; even some fiery dishes of Dorne brought along by their recent envoys to the city.

The last made Tommen think a little of his sister Myrcella, sent down to Dorne herself not long ago. It made him sad; Joffrey may have been a cruel brother, but Myrcella had been a wonderful sister, and he still missed her.

The atmosphere of the wedding was infectious, bringing Tommen easily out of these darker thoughts. Fools bobbed about the wedding, moving around on stilts, eating frogs and burping feathers. Musicians played one after the other for his favour, a heady variety of songs from the gloomy "Rains of Castamere" to the boisterous "A Bear and the Maiden Fair".

The meal was done however, and the scene grew a little more relaxed. Dishes of food remained on the tables, but most appetites had been sated. Some eyes were drooping, many tired after the enormous feast, while others stifled obvious yawns.

Tommen was nervous as to what was next. The source of his nervousness touched a delicate white hand to his arm, a deft, lingering touch that made Tommen jump.

He looked next to him and saw a vision of female beauty. Margaery Tyrell was cloaked in the Baratheon colours that he himself had placed on her, the black and gold with its prancing stag. Beneath it, she wore a gorgeous confection of white Myrish lace, her hair in an elaborately artful array on her head. Tommen was glad to see she had changed both her outfit and her hair from the ill-fated wedding of his brother, but it was no less alluring.

Even with the significant age discrepancy between them, Tommen had become quite enamored with the lovely Tyrell. Previously, it had been from afar; Margaery was to be Queen to his brother Joffrey, and it was not in Tommen to be ambitious. Now it was his duty to marry Margaery, and more and more he was excited at the prospect.

Tommen looked at her with the green eyes of the Lannisters, a slight flush colouring his cheeks, embarrassed that he had so visibly displayed his nervousness. Margaery did not seem to mind. She smiled knowingly to him, then leaned in closer to share a word over the din to her new husband.

Margaery's elaborate dress bore the tops of her small breasts, and Tommen could not help but appreciate the presentation. Then he coloured again, as he knew she had seen his fixed gaze, but Margaery's smile only widened. The Tyrell woman was so accepting to his faults. Tommen was glad.

"I think our guests are almost done, my King," Margaery said. "We should retire and let them be."

Tommen felt his nervousness grow. He knew what was next; his grandfather had discussed it with him all too recently. The process had all sounded so…strange, alien and unfamiliar. Tommen was not sure he wanted any part of it, but Tywin Lannister had insisted.

"The marriage must be consummated," the Hand had said, his fierce, autocratic features studying his grandson. "Otherwise it can be too easily set aside. The realm needs this, and you told me yourself you wanted to be a good king. A good king must sometimes do things he is not comfortable with."

Tywin Lannister was in the audience of course, at the high table. His grandfather scared Tommen, but there was no denying the power or the wisdom of his words.

Next to Tywin was his daughter, the former Queen Cersei, Tommen's mother. Others had judged Cersei a beautiful woman in her own right, possessing all the common blonde good looks often favoured to the Lannisters. Despite the loveliness of her own garments and the setting, Cersei's face was rigid, her eyes darting this way and that. During the meal her eyes had met Tommen's and seemed to water, then grown harder and dry when she looked past him towards Margaery.

Tommen did not understand why she would be this way, as he watched her looking to Uncle Jaime, prowling the edges of the feast in the white armor of the Kingsguard.

King Tommen I Baratheon smiled at his new wife, and then turned toward his mother. "Mother, I think it is time for us to go."

Cersei's reaction flickered. Her features grew still, as if they were the words she had dreaded to hear. She studied her son searchingly, and then again to Margaery.

"Very well." Tommen's mother abruptly clapped her hands together and stood. "My lords and ladies, it is time for the King and Queen to retire. His Grace would like to thank you for your attendance to this important event in the history of Westeros."

Beside her, ever correct, Lord Tywin rose to his feet, as did every member of the high table. Following, the diners on the lower tables did the same, to bid farewell to the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Tommen remembered what his mother had taught him. He stood from his seat, clad in a beautiful velvet doublet. He lifted Margaery's hand, bidding her rise, which the Tyrell girl did, smiling radiantly. Slowly, Tommen led his new bride behind the dais, but there was a sudden stop. Tommen looked to see Cersei's arm on Margaery's, saying something to her that he could not hear. The grip seemed far too strong for the circumstances, but Margaery's expression did not flicker, though Cersei's was suddenly dark away from the eyes of the guests.

Then Margaery continued the way out. All eyes were on them as they walked beneath the imperious eyes of Lord Tywin and all in attendance down the center aisle.

Margaery had shared a special confession with Tommen. "The bedding ceremony is so primitive, wouldn't you say," she had confessed in an earlier garden meeting between the two betrothed. "I would greatly appreciate it if my King could find it in him to suggest maybe avoiding it this time. You would find me very grateful." Ever obliging, Tommen had accepted.

Together they walked to the Royal Chambers of the Red Keep, where a pair of servants stood waiting outside the doors. Tommen felt a flutter within him.

* * *

Margaery Tyrell was well pleased as she walked beside her new husband.

The twice-widowed and newfound Queen had endured her own share of turmoil. Her first husband had, as she had confessed to her grandmother, preferred the company of men; the second had been a cruel, sadistic tyrant.

Now, at last, she would be Queen, fulfilling one of her own greatest desires to the joy of her House. As far as being with a King would go, Tommen was a great deal more biddable than his cruel brother.

She had tested the waters with Tommen, taking the measure of the still relatively young teenager. The King had been easily convinced to avoid the bedding, something Margaery had already experienced at her marriage to Renly. It was true that Margaery did not particularly enjoy being unclad by drunk, grasping dinner guests, but she would have paid the price gladly to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Tommen would be an easily influenced king, but deep down, Margaery felt a sense of sympathy for the young man. Despite being a pawn in the Game of Thrones, he was a good-hearted teenager, in many ways the opposite of his brother. Beneath the politics was a genuine sense of affection.

She had wanted to be a queen. Instead of her king being more interested in her brother or torturing in sadistic pleasure, she had to deal with a husband far younger than her. A small price to pay, comparatively.

Margaery knew how to play the game well by now. Tommen had fallen for her; instead of having to feign interest in villainous, horrific activities, she had simply given him sultry looks and knowing glances, all under the guise of playfulness. Her natural beauty had no doubt contributed as well, and no small measure of reliance on the Tyrell alliance by House Lannister.

"My King, Queen," said a thin, ever-obliging servant man beside the double doors. "The bed has been prepared, and you will find numerous refreshments inside. Is there anything else you might need tonight?"

Margaery threw a smirk over to her much younger husband. "Oh I think we'll be just fine."

Tommen coloured again. He did it so easily, but Margaery found it endearing in a strange way. Many knew how to lie all too well…it was refreshing to meet someone otherwise. "Yes, please be sure no one enters unannounced."

"Of course. If my King and Queen need anything, you need only ask." The two servants pulled open a side of the door each, and Margaery's hand remained inside Tommen's arm as they passed the threshold.

Her husband was trembling slightly, Margaery noted. Behind them, the doors closed.

Ahead was a bed that was huge almost to the point of absurdity. It was canopied with four large posts, a large view of Blackwater Bay available from a curtained window. On the bed lay a collection of rose petals, a gentle light permeating into the air from a pair of lanterns set on either side. There was a smell of flowers wafting through the air, one that Margaery knew all too well.

"My King." Margaery released Tommen's offered arm and looked to him, staring him full in the face. The teenage boy returned the look nervously.

"I…" Tommen could not seem to find the words at first. "My grandfather, has commanded me to…ummm…"

Margaery put a single finger on his lips to silence him, and the way she did it included no small element of sensuality. "I know what he commanded you to do Tommen. But you've never been with a woman before, have you?"

Tommen nodded as Margaery removed her finger. "I've been told what to do, but I've never…is this what other people do? Is this what you want?"

The King was babbling in his nervousness. Margaery knew that she would have to do as she did with many; she would have to take the lead.

"This isn't about anyone else, Tommen," Margaery said quietly. She took his hand and raised it to her own. "It's about us and what we want. And I do want this. Do you?"

Tommen still looked unsure even as she kissed his hand lovingly. "Margaery…I'm not sure if I want to…"

"The first time is always scary," Margaery said. She knew there were listening ears and that her virginity had been a contentious topic, but it wasn't as if she had admitted otherwise. The consummation was as important to her as it was to Tywin Lannister; it was her opportunity to be a Queen.

She took it slow, how she knew he wanted. "We won't do anything we don't want to. But I want to try something. Will you let me, Tommen?"

Margaery gave the King of the Seven Kingdoms her most teasing, sultry stare, with all of her substantial beauty behind it.

Tommen didn't have a chance.

"Of course," Tommen said. "What is it…"

"I'll show you." Delicately, Margaery, led him to the bed, and then pushed him downwards. Still standing above, she took a single needle from her hair, unravelling the elegant array on her head. Rich brown locks fell around her head, shrouding her face and the eyes that sparkled. Eyes on his, she gave her head a shake so the curls rested naturally around her like a shroud.

Tommen's eyes widened. "Wow."

Margaery only smiled at that. She delicately removed the bridal cloak and threw it onto a more distant corner of the bed, then turned around, presenting the back of her Myrish lace gown to Tommen. She turned her head to the side to address him, feeling his stare along her back and even further below

"I'll need you to unlace me, my King."

Tommen lifted his hands to tug nervously, delicately on the back laces, trying to untie them and fumbling more often than not. Margaery waited patiently until she felt her gown loosen and his hands remove themselves. "Thank you."

Margaery turned back to Tommen, her gown hanging loosely from her front as she held it in place with her hands. The teenage King was watching her with wide but hungry eyes. He didn't know why yet, but his body subconsciously knew how to appreciate such beauty.

The soft brown eyes met Tommen's, and Margaery smiled knowingly. Then she let the hands fall from her front.

With them fell open the lovely wedding dress, baring Margaery Tyrell from the waist up.

Tommen had no standard of reference to compare to. All he knew was how interesting it looked to finally see how women looked beneath the bodices they all wore. He didn't know that Margaery Tyrell was a particularly lovely woman or that he was a particularly lucky boy. Though she was not well-endowed, her breasts were shapely and enhanced by a lovely face above and slim feminine form below.

There was a strange feeling in Tommen as he felt his eyes travelling up and down Margaery's body, from the lovely hair and face to the exposed breasts and chest. His pants felt tighter by the moment.

Margaery let her own glance fall as well. Tommen felt a thrill as she looked down between his legs, where the outline of his manhood was growing in stature through his leggings.

"I'm sorry Margaery," Tommen said as she met his gaze upwards. "I-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Tommen." Margaery smiled acceptingly at him. She gave another shake of her head so that her hair fell around her breasts more naturally.

Then, keeping her eyes on Tommen's, she slowly lowered herself, falling to her knees before the bed.

"Margaery?" Tommen asked curiously.

"Just let me try this one thing, Tommen. Is that okay?"

The King nodded. Margaery reached her delicate hands forward towards the taut leggings and slowly unlaced them. As she finished her task, her left hand lingered to give his manhood a squeeze through the cloth.

"Oh…" Tommen's innocence was palpable, and Margaery smiled at his reaction. "Is that good, my King?"

She drew the breeches open, and Tommen's cock was suddenly exposed to the air above, the teenager looking at him himself almost incredulously. He had never felt so hard before…

His eyes moved from his own upright penis to Margaery's face behind it. Margaery looked at her newest target, then met the eyes.

"Just this one thing," Margaery promised.

Then she slid forward. She gave a kiss to the hot, tense flesh of Tommen's cock. The king moaned, looking down as if he could not believe the sensations were real. Margaery gave him another kiss, this time near the more bulbous head. Tommen was at her mercy now, she knew.

Her brown hair falling to frame her face, her eyes meeting his the whole way, Margaery bent her head over to Tommen's erect cock and slid it into her mouth.

This time the king moaned aloud. It was nothing like he had expected. He had never known such exquisite pleasure could even exist. To feel such suction, such warmth, on that place was such a unique and wonderful experience.

Margaery lingered where she was for a moment. Just the tip of Tommen's penis was in her mouth now, her eyes still cast upwards, watching his reactions.

Tommen was a young lad and his cock was probably slightly smaller than most Margaery had known. Above, the king met Margaery's eyes as the Tyrell woman began to take more and more of his length into her mouth.

Margaery steadily descended. There wasn't much pubic hair to disturb her, with Tommen's relative youth. It was actually quite a nice length, Margaery noted, her mouth contorting as she sucked slowly along the length of phallus. She could take it all, and it made her feel full but not uncomfortable.

Eventually, Margaery began to slide off, slowly, carefully, delicately. She gave the tip a lick as she departed and then she looked upwards to Tommen, keeping one hand on his length, stroking delicately, teasingly along it.

"How did that feel, my King?" Margaery asked.

"…Good…" Tommen still felt her deft fingers along his length, his eyes looking into hers unceasingly. His eyes finally fell to Margaery's breasts.

Margaery saw the stare and brought herself forward. With Tommen's length between her two small globes, she began to pump him. The King relished the sensation of his hard cock on her warm, smooth, unblemished flesh.

"What did you like more, Tommen?" Margaery asked. "My mouth…or this?" She gave him another dutiful pump.

It was like choosing between whether a bunny or a kitten was more cute for Tommen. They were both so in their own way. But in between his rapture a single word tumbled out.

"…mmm…mmmm…mouth."

Margaery gave him that knowing, accepting smile. "As you wish. My king."

She leaned back again, and again let her hair fall forward. Then she leaned forward towards the erect cock and again took it into her mouth.

"Oh…Margaery…" Tommen said, and his body fell backwards onto the bed. Slowly, Margaery began to suck again along the length, pumping, teasing with tongue here and there. If Tommen had been more experienced he might have realized Margaery's skill was exceptionally uncommon for a virgin.

There was a strange twinge in Tommen from his lower body. The pleasure felt so good, and he did not know what it meant. All he knew was that Margaery Tyrell was giving him the best experience of his young life, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

Margaery kept sucking dutifully. She began to perform every trick she knew, knowing the young king would not know the difference. Tommen was the lucky recipient of her dutiful ministrations, her beautiful pale face rising and falling on him.

The twinge grew stronger. Tommen still didn't know what it meant. Margaery was still bobbing, her tongue a wonderful hot caress sliding along this and that part of him. He really should have been thinking more, but there was only one simple thought; gods it felt so good. It was too much pleasure for a virginal young teenager on his first explorations of sex. The blowjob had only stretched for a short time, but Tommen felt the twinge again, the strongest yet, and then he cried out, utterly confused at his body's reaction.

Margaery had only a split second of warning. She felt the pulse of a vein of his cock beneath her tongue and then suddenly a mighty spurt of his seed was unleashed deeply into her throat. Despite the surprise, Margaery persevered. She kept licking and sucking, moving up and down the length as it pulsed again and again under her continuous ministrations.

It was more than she expected. Tommen had cried out, his teenage body writhing beneath her as she unceasingly stimulated him through his first orgasm. Margaery was all too happy to do so; all that mattered was the cock fountaining beneath her tongue and the unrelenting need to keep pleasuring it. There was no stopping her, and if anything her suction grew more fervent, making sure every bit of his load was spurted inside her hot, welcoming mouth.

Margaery gave out her first moan as Tommen convulsed, thrusting unknowingly into her increasingly jism-filled mouth. The twinges were gone. Tommen suddenly felt that curious sensation of post-orgasmic bliss, and looked downwards towards Margaery.

The Tyrell girl's eyes were closed, her mouth popping off his spent dick with an expression of rapture. Tommen looked at her with concern. "Margaery. Are you all right?" He looked down to his deflating penis, which was bone dry. "It felt like I was shooting something…but…I don't know where it…"

Margaery's eyes opened to meet his. She rose to stand above her, curiously silent, and Tommen spoke again. "Margaery?"

The Tyrell girl's mouth opened. It was filled with a strange creamy white substance that Tommen could not identify. "What…"

Margaery managed to speak, her tone strangely modified by her filled mouth. "This is…you…Tommen…this is…your…seed…"

"Oh." Tommen coloured. "Is that what it looks like? I was told I needed to put it somewhere else…"

Margaery gave him a good eyeful of swirling her tongue around the sizeable load in her mouth. Then she swallowed loudly, obviously.

Her tones returned to usual. "Your seed is delicious, my King."

Tommen looked confused. "Really?"

"Of course." She looked down at the wilting cock. "Far better than anything at the feast." To prove herself, she leaned down and gave him another suck for good measure.

Margaery lifted off and let herself fall onto the bed next to her Tommen. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth to make sure none of the residue remained.

Tommen was still breathing heavily in the wondrous experience of orgasm. "So that…seed…it goes into..."

It was true that Margaery was not done. She had not needed to expend much effort for Tommen's orgasm, and she was nowhere near accomplishing her own pleasure. So Margaery kissed the king on the lips again, delicately, and rose again.

"I'll show you where it goes, Tommen." Margaery let the Myrish gown fall from her completely, placing one hand and the other on each hip to slide it off her. Tommen was suddenly aware of the curve of Margaery's hip and the curve of leg, and the hair that grew between her legs. That mound was brown and dark, as she stood before him, now as naked as her name day, looking deeply into his eyes.

Slowly, Margaery lifted one leg and then the other from the pool of costly cloth on the floor. Then she lowered one hand between her legs. It traced carefully through the curl of brown hairs on her mound, then into herself, working.

Margaery was surprised at how wet she was. Tommen was nowhere near her most experienced or endowed lover. But there was an earnestness to him, and she felt a burgeoning desire to make this young man's first night with a woman the best it could be.

"Where is it?" Tommen was confused. "I don't see where it will go… I was told my…you know…would have to go…"

"In here." Margaery threw her legs over Tommen's bare ones, straddling the teenage boy on the bed. She leaned back, displaying impressive flexibility, and exposed herself for Tommen to see. The King looked down to see Margaery's spread pink petals, exposed by her own fingers. It was a strange and unfamiliar sight, but it was endearing. The heat of her body and that sight was causing his cock to stir again.

Margaery felt it too. "Oh, my King is not done." She smiled yet again at him, moving backwards along his legs to reach a hand once more on his hardening cock. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we?"

Under her deft touch, Tommen was soon hard again. Margaery knew that the young king was completely at her mercy now, more than ever. However, this time at least, their interests met.

Slowly, she drew his now hard cock upwards. Margaery lifted herself above the erect penis and looked at Tommen carefully.

"This is where it goes, Tommen. This is where you belong."

And then she let herself fall onto his cock, letting gravity do its work for them.

Margaery felt herself finally reach some measure of her own sexual stimulation. Tommen's cock was buried to the hilt inside her willing, waiting pussy, and she began to accustom herself to this newest of intruders. Below, the teenage King was moaning. "I never knew…it could feel so nice," Tommen confessed. "You feel so wet down there, and so tight. Oh…Margaery…"

The newfound Queen let herself adjust to Tommen for a while. "Isn't that good?" Margaeyr cooed, giving him an extra little squeeze. "This is what you were told to do right? To put yourself in here…"

"Yes." Tommen looked abashed.

"Did you know it could feel like this?"

"No." Tommen seemed unable to string numerous words together, his expression curious, analyzing the sensations of the first vagina he had ever been inside.

"If you put your seed in here," Margaery explained patiently, giving him a little squeeze around him to reinforce her point. "We can make a baby together."

"Oh." It was an answer to one of life's key questions for Tommen. "Should we do that?"

"It's up to you, Tommen." Margaery smiled her radiant smile, and his eyes lingered along her beautiful female form, displayed gloriously above his body.

Slowly, Margaery began to lift herself off of his cock, and Tommen felt himself feel a curious sense of loss as he was deprived of that velvety, wondrous sheath. Then she fell again on him, and he felt his cock surge in rapture. Margaery had eyes only for his reaction and she began to ride him over and over in increasing tempo.

It continued that way for some time. Margaery's leg muscles worked continuously, driving herself up and down upon him. Her small breasts jiggled with each shuddering sheathing, her mouth opening in an "o" expression. For once she did not look perfectly kempt, her hair finally moving into a semblance of disarray in her fervent efforts.

Tommen watched himself disappearing inside Margaery over and over, the feeling absolutely sensational. Distantly, Margaery had some curious thoughts for the boy's stamina; the first orgasm may have been quick, but at least Tommen had recovered quickly, and now she was getting quite a workout. Her own orgasm was approaching as her wet pussy was penetrated again and again.

The familiar twinge suddenly returned to Tommen. "Margaery, I'm about to…"

Margaery did not stop her efforts, continuing in her same pace she had slowly increased to. "It's up to you, my King. You are mine, and I am yours."

"I…" Tommen didn't know what to do. Maybe he should be safe and finish outside her. But this was a small thought, one buried in the corner of a teenage mind. Above, a breathtakingly lovely woman drove herself upon him, willing to accept him and his seed inside a pussy that felt so good, so inviting.

The teenage king moaned, his thoughts a confused mess, his body surging. Margaery began to increase her pace as best she could, their flesh slapping loudly, her legs working, her hair shaking, brown hair tumbling, eyes open and looking into his. Tommen looked up at his beautiful wife, his Queen, and suddenly, he felt the strong twinge again. "Ugggh," was all he could cry at first, and then his cock began to pulse its second load of the night into the velvety sheath that surrounded it.

Margaery could feel the spurts of his seed inside her, a lewd and delightful sensation. She had never allowed it to happen before, but this time she welcomed it. It set off the Tyrell girl's own climax, unleashing her own shrill, uncharacteristically uncontrolled scream. She rocked on him, squeezing herself on his length, milking him for all he was worth. Tommen was worth quite a bit; Margaery could feel a hazy warmth grow within her, the burgeoning fill of his load settling inside her grasping pussy.

For his part, Tommen studied where their bodies met curiously. At first, there was only limited evidence of his climax. His dick convulsed visibly but the results were not so easily seen as Margaery Tyrell continued to drive herself on him. However, he could feel himself straining again and again, and knew that this had been, if anything, more powerful and well-developed than his first orgasm.

As the experience drew on towards its inevitable conclusion, Tommen laid on his back, looking upwards at Margaery. The Tyrell girl was breathing heavily, her hair in disarray from her exertions, and she gave Tommen a weary smile. She too looked down to where they were joined.

There, finally, small strands of white seed began to leak out of her pussy from around his cock. They studied the sight of her impregnation for a moment, then their eyes met again and Margaery let herself fall forward onto him, kissing the teenage King.

"How did that feel, my King?" Margaery asked, tracing her fingers on Tommen's chest, smiling with genuine contentedness.

"Better than anything I've ever felt." Tommen looked down at her. "Thank you, Margaery."

"No need for thanks, my King." Margaery gave a final smile. "Together, we will rule these Seven Kingdoms well."

Tommen only nodded. The power of his double orgasm was exacting its cost; the young teenager was exhausted, descending into sleep. Margaery watched him rest from above, stroking at his chest still, exulting still in the feel of his warm teenage seed inside her.

Despite the efforts of Tommen's mother Cersei, Margaery Tyrell was triumphant.

She was a Queen at last.


End file.
